So, I was sitting in my room, all by myself, and trying my best not to feel like an intruder. Not that I am… I just can’t help how I feel sometimes. I mean, Sis’ Zukiswa – my stepmom – did give me the “make yourself feel at home…this is your home too” speech. So, I’m supposed to be feeling at home, right? No. I just can’t.

So much is still the same yet so much has changed. It doesn’t feel like home anymore. Home is a feeling, I guess. You have to feel at home for a house to be a home. You have to make it a home. I read somewhere that a “home is filled with stories…It has all of your memories.” But this is not the case here.

Everything has just been ripped off and re-organised. The memories have all been erased. The stories seem out of place. So, instead of hurting myself by thinking about how things were before they became what they are now, I prefer to sit alone and do my own thing. It’s even worse now that Dad is not here and Sim is hardly home too. See, why I can’t help feeling out of place?

Sure enough, my stepmother is trying her best to make me feel at home. She’s treating me like an ice princess of some sort, asking me if there’s anything I need now and again. And the answer has been a resounding “no” but she refuses to back down.

So – as I was saying – I was busy minding my own business when I heard a knock and a moment later she appeared at the door. I had a call, she said. It was Mrs Potgieter, my grade 9 English teacher – who also happens to be Robbie’s mom. She had heard from Sim (who she teaches now) that I was in town and thought that she’d invite me over for dinner whenever I’m free.

Yay! I can finally get out of this home with its silence and spookiness, with familiar voices missing, just me and Sis’ Zukiswa – my stepmother. I can do with a little breeze too. Ever since I got here I’ve been spending time only here at home or at the hospital with my dad. This kind of routine is depressing to say the least. I need fresh air!

ZZ xxx

Dish it: what does home mean to you?